Shit gets real

This seems to be when, pardon the language, shit gets real*.

IMG_8670I haven’t blogged for a while, because this isn’t a travel blog – it’s not only meant to showcase the beautiful places and wonderful parts of Australia we are privileged to see – as per photo above of Bicheno beach I took last night – unreal, hey?

I digress – this trip is about the experience. The fun, the farts, the good and bad times, the heat, the cold – and, unexpectedly, the hail.

After five-and-a-half months on the road, the majority of it in provided accommodation with the various jobs I’ve had, we are now on the road with the camper trailer on holiday.

In those months, we had used the trailer about 20 nights. Now we are living in it, and trying to free camp where possible (read “no power = no heater = cold).

We love our Mouse House, and so far have been mostly snug and warm. But on the three occasions where we have been stuck in really windy storms, water has poured in one corner.

We left Hobart three days ago with the car impeccably packed, planning two nights at the southern-most tip of Australia, then to head to Bruny Island.

Instead, we are fleeing as far north as we can, in a car with crap everywhere, half-damp bedding spread all over and unable to find anything.

So yes, shit has got real. Niggling arguments are starting to happen more often. Noisy children in camping grounds are annoying me. I don’t like a) walking 300 metres in five degree cold to go to the toilet in the middle of the night, or b) the smell of the toilet when we camp right next to it to avoid problem a).


IMG_8563 (Edited)

How I feel after a night on a hard camping mattress – actually, I saw this contortionist at the Salamanca markets in Hobart last week. 

But this is all about the adventure. The experience of waking up and realising gumboots would have been a good option for getting out of bed. Of opening the camper trailer and seeing hail lying around. Of freezing fingers as you try to soak up the water from the floor. Of realising the ol’ intramarital communication skills need some serious attention.


Hail on the ground at our campsite

After getting everything packed up, a brief blue sky opens and I can’t help it – I plead to be allowed to ride my bike for the first few kilometres of our journey. And I get on my bike and glide through the coastal rainforest, beach on one side, towering trees on the other. A small wallaby darts across the road in front of me. It’s magic, an unreal world.

Then just as Chris pulls up to pick me up, it starts to hail. And shit gets real again.

*Please understand this post is tongue-in-cheek. I realise there are people in this world with real problems. We know how incredibly lucky we are.

Sent from my iPhone